One Thousand Thirty Three
by XbehindtheseaX
Summary: He's never been one for presents or celebrations, so how does Roderich spend his one thousand thirty-third birthday?


"Austria, what do you-"

Oh dear. Here it came. Every year, Hungary would ask him the same question. He'd blush and beg her not to get him anything. He'd always had such an aversion to receiving gifts or having anyone go to any sort of trouble to please him.

"-want for your birthday?"

He smiled a slight bit and sighed. "Nothing, darling."

"Really, there must be something I can do. Maybe I'll throw you a party if you don't want a present!" She gave a little giggle and mentally began to plan.

"No, no parties. No anything, please." He said softly, not wanting to her offend her as she attempted a sweet gesture. "I've had so many birthdays; I don't even celebrate them anymore." Well, this was true.

"We celebrated it last year." Hungary reminded him brightly.

He struggled not to groan. He had rather not wanted to be reminded of the complete embarrassment of a surprise party twelve months prior. Between Prussia charging in like a drunken fool (no, not _like, _he _was_ quite intoxicated, thank you!) and cake being knocked unto Roderich's immaculate carpet, he'd nearly fainted. He hadn't asked for the gathering, mind you. No, he'd come home from shopping with an expectation of a perfectly empty house…only to find his dear Elizaveta. At first, he'd actually been happy. His heart had fluttered at the sight of the woman standing feet from the doorway, the most loving of smiles on her face.

…Then the others had popped out from behind couches and such, all shouting "Surprise!" cheerfully.

Yes, things had only gone downhill from there.

"I'd prefer it if no celebration took place." He tried once again to speak as gently as possible; he was honestly flattered she cared so much.

That beautiful face fell a little. "Are you sure? I can't even get you something?"

He nodded, but he ceased and began to mumble thoughtfully. "Actually, there's one thing I'd like."

"Yes?!" She perked up.

"I want to spend the entire day alone with you."

No sooner had he said these words than he was tackled and nearly squeezed to near-death by the excited Hungarian.

"Roderich! You are just so _precious! _No matter what you say, I'm giving you a gift." She stood up as far as she could to kiss him sweetly on the very tip of his nose.

"Elizaveta, you really don't have to."

"Well, I'm giving you a gift. And you're going to accept it."

That being said, she ignored his protests and ran off to presumably prepare.

* * *

Come the day, he awoke to quite a beautiful sight. Hungary grinned (with an almost frightening expression) wildly at him from across his bed.

"Happy birthday, dear~"

He nodded his head in acknowledgement before blushing deeply. "Thank you." He sat up and stretched, smiling shyly at her for a few moments before leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead.

"Do you want to know what your present is?" She threw her arms around his neck and practically purred the sentence.

He was beginning to get quite a good idea, or so he thought.

"You're turning one thousand thirty-three today, correct?" She traced the edges of his pajama shirt buttons with her fingers.

"Yes."

She stared at him with bright green eyes and beamed. "You look pretty good for one thousand thirty-three." The woman teased, running fingers through his brown hair. "Want to know what?"

"Hmm?" The coloring of his cheeks was even deeper than before.

"I'm going to say "I love you" one thousand thirty-three times today, so keep count." Hungary drew back, the same unidentifiable gaze fixated on Austria.

"Oh, alright." He sighed in a mixture of disappointment and relief as she rolled out of bed. Half of him was dazedly fantasizing about what she'd been implying but thirty seconds ago, whilst the other half was practically screaming about how ungentlemanly such an expectation was.

"I love you." Her arms were crossed lazily as she stood in the bedroom doorway.

"That's one." He said before following her lead out of bed. "And I love you too, darling."

She pressed her cheek to the wall and smiled dreamily. "God, Roderich. I love you so much."

He gave her a wider-than-usual grin as she grabbed his hand and led him away.

* * *

Throughout the day, he did keep count. He was keeping track as she dragged him to a picnic on a secluded hill and when she presented him with a homemade birthday cake. He didn't forget to note how many times the phrase was murmured as he played his piano for her. But he was rather puzzled when he counted only ninety-eight "I love you"s by evening. However, he didn't feel the need to press the issue. He figured she'd forgotten about the "present", seeing as it was mentioned no more times that day.

"You've been counting, right?" She asked suddenly while sitting next to him on his piano bench.

"Yes."

She said nothing more; she merely leaned against him and began to kiss his neck. Things started slow and sweet, and despite being torn between slinking away from the action and moaning in reply, he tilted his head back in encouragement. Soft lips glided from his collarbone to his Adam's apple and he soon noticed the woman was muttering something.

"One thousand twenty-nine. One thousand thirty. One thousand thirty-one. One thousand thirty-two."

"Elizaveta, what are you doing?"

"One thousand thirty-three." She murmured with the final kiss. "I'm guessing you only counted ninety-eight."

"Well, yes." He confirmed quietly.

She nuzzled against his chest. "You're very silly. I said it exactly one thousand thirty-three times."

He suddenly realized something.

If he'd really counted, he would have found the Hungarian said the literal words ninety-eight times. She'd kissed him exactly one hundred fifty-three times, given him precisely seventy-seven hugs. She'd let out fifty-nine content sighs and taken his hand in hers on one hundred and twelve separate occasions. If he'd really counted, he would have totaled three hundred and one loving gazes. That's not even to mention the one hundred and sixty-two times she stroked his hands as she held them, or the forty one instances where she reached out to caress his face. There'd been eleven moments of her brushing away the hair from his forehead and nineteen of her running her fingers through said hair.

If he'd really counted, he would have concluded she said "I love you" one thousand thirty-three times. And although he didn't make note of exactly how many times she'd held or kissed him, he understood the implication of her words. She'd been saying them all day, just differently than he would have expected.

"I love you." He said, not the first time for him that day. "I love and adore you."

She gave her sixtieth sigh of contentment and intertwined their fingers. "Happy birthday. Here's to one thousand thirty-three more."

He corrected her: "Here's to one thousand thirty-three more years with you."

* * *

_So, Austria's birthday is given as October 26__th__, 976. Seeing as he's my favorite character, it's only natural I'd write him a birthday fic. A fluffy ,happy one~_

_I'm not sure how I feel about it, the end was really corny. I sort of intended it that way. And Roderich may seem OOC, but I imagine him as being a bit more relaxed and affectionate when he's alone with Hungary (: _

_Anyways!_

_HAPPY BIRTHDAY, AUSTRIA-SAN! *Glomps him*_

_-Lissa_


End file.
